


New New Fortuna

by goingtothetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist!Rose, F/M, Museums, Prompt Fic, Sculptor!Doctor, The Stone Rose themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 08:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17484872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: After discovering a statue made in her image at the British Museum, Rose has an unexpected encounter with the artist himself.





	New New Fortuna

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skyler10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyler10/gifts).



> Skyler10fic prompted: Ten x Rose AU + statue
> 
> The idea for this fic finally hit me a few days ago, and it was a ton of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Thanks to SelenaTerna for the read-through! (The Ancient Egypt section at the British Museum is one of the first places we went together after meeting in real life, so I had to add it to the fic.)

Rose’s mobile vibrates on the table, and she sighs, wishing she’d turned it off and left it in her bedroom. Despite knowing she needs to ignore the call to focus on completing her sketchbook, she picks it up when the caller ID shows it’s her mate Mickey. 

“Yeah?” she asks, deciding in her annoyance to forego a more polite greeting.

“Rose!” Mickey nearly shouts into the mobile, Rose pulls the phone away from her ear. “You gotta come to the British Museum. Right now! I found something that… Well, you just gotta come.”

Rose furrows her forehead in confusion. “Micks, what– Why? I’m at home working on my sketchbook. I told you it’s due tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, Rose, I know, but I promise, you won’t regret it. Plus, maybe you’ll get some inspiration for your project,” Mickey says, his voice filled with mysterious excitement.

“Can’t you just tell me?” she asks, not bothering to hide her irritation. “What’re you doin’ at the museum, anyway?”

“Rose, come on… Just come. I’m doing my volunteer program today, so I’ll be here until closing.” 

Rose sighs and chews on her pen. She might as well go and see what he found. It’s not like she’s getting anything done here. “Fine, I’ll come. It’d better be good, Mickey.”

“Text me when you’re here! Gotta go! Bye!” Mickey all but shouts into the mobile and hangs up. 

Shaking her head, Rose wonders what she’s getting herself into as she throws her mobile into her bag and carefully collects her pencils and sketchbook before packing them into her backpack.

* * *

 

Exactly forty-seven minutes later, Rose hops off the bus down the street from the museum and pulls out her mobile.

Rose:  _ just got off the bus _

Mickey:  _ meet me at the entrance to the temporary exhibit _

Rose:  _ k, see you in a few _

She hurries down the street and up the steps to the museum, unable to quench the excitement of visiting one of her favorite places in the city. Having visited countless times, Rose heads to the left and past the museum shop and cafe before spotting Mickey at the entrance to the special exhibitions gallery. 

“What’s so important you couldn’t tell me over the phone?” she asks, hugging her mate when she catches up to him. 

“It’s better if I just show you,” Mickey answer, continuing to evade her questions. 

“Get on with it, then,” Rose says, shoving him gently into the room. “What’s on, now, anyway? I haven’t had a chance to come for a few months.”

Mickey leads Rose in a straight line to the far corner of the exhibit. “Modern sculpting,” he replies somewhat distractedly as he looks for something specific. “Something about mixing traditional styles with modern art. I don’t know. Ah! There!” 

Rose stops in her tracks and follows the line of Mickey’s finger. 

“Oh my God.” Taking a step closer, Rose stares wide-eyed at the statue. It’s  _ her,  _ a perfectly sculpted statue of  _ her, _ hoop earrings, hooded sweatshirt, long hair, and all. “It’s  _ me!” _

“It’s you!” Mickey whoops loudly, earning a few disgruntled glares from other patrons. “I dunno how, Rose, but that is an exact copy of you.” He pauses, studying the statue thoughtfully. “I wonder if you have a stalker.”

“Micks, that’s bloody terrifying. Don’t say that,” Rose says, casting a dark glare at her friend. “Why’s there a statue of me?” Studying her stone replica, she marvels at the precision of detail, not only in her accessories and clothing, but also in the shape of her body and curves. Blushing slightly, she wonders who the artist is and if he really  _ is _ a stalker. 

“Who’s the artist?” she asks, still gazing at the statue. 

“Um, someone called James Noble. Ha! Look at this, Rose. He’s a Doctor of Astrophysics at Oxford with ‘a unique zest for life and a passion for trying new things, including this award winning sculpture as his first work of art.’ The name of this piece is ‘New New Fortuna.’ Huh, well, that’s a bit rubbish,” Mickey says. 

“Oi, look who you’re calling rubbish. That’s me up there,” Rose says with a laugh and a hard elbow to Mickey’s side. “‘S mad, yeah? Wonder if I can meet the bloke who sculpted me an’ tell ‘im off for not sharing the proceeds.”

They spend several more minutes inspecting the statue before Rose remembers her sketchbook. “Shit, I’ve got to work on my sketches, Micks. Meet up for curry after you’re done?” 

After confirming a meeting place, Rose wanders off to one of her favorite sections of the museum: Ancient Egypt. Sitting down on a bench, she pulls out her sketchbook and a pencil and begins to draw.

* * *

 

“You’re her! You’re really her!” An unfamiliar voice pulls Rose out of her concentration, and she looks around in confusion. 

Standing in front of her with a brilliant smile is one of the most fit blokes Rose has ever set eyes on. He’s tall, slender, and wears a well fitted brown and blue pinstriped suit and dirty cream Converse. He’s got a brown mop of messy hair on top of his head, and wide brown eyes stare down at her in excitement as he leans forward and back with nervous energy. 

“Uh, sorry, do I know you?” Rose blinks at the bloke standing before her, trying to focus on a conversation with him rather than the way his suit jacket pulls tightly across his chest. 

“No, well– I don’t think so. I’ve spent so much time with you that I feel like I know you, even though I don’t. Not really.” The bloke lets loose a stream of words without breathing, and Rose clutches her sketchbook to her chest as she attempts to comprehend his words. 

“Look, I don’t know who you are, but are you following me?” she asks, glaring daggers at the bloke.

He pauses and stands still, eyes wide and mouth open in a small ‘o’ of surprise. “Oh!  _ Oh! _ ” His cheeks turn pink, highlighting the smattering of freckles on his cheeks, and he tugs awkwardly on an ear. “Sorry, I’m James Noble. I have a sculpture on display in the special exhibit. ‘New New Fortuna.’ Have you seen her?”

Rose blinks again and shakes her head. “Wait, what?  _ You’re _ James Noble? The Doctor of Astrophysics?”

James beams and clicks his tongue. “That’s me.”

Standing up, Rose steps into James’s space and pokes his chest. “How come there’s a statue of me? Are you  _ stalking _ me? Following me like some freak?  ‘Cause I sure as  _ hell _ did not consent to you puttin’ a bloody sculpture of me in the museum.”

“Ah, no, I’m so sorry,” James stammers, running a hand through his thick brown hair. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not… I’m not a stalker. I’m  _ not _ following you,” he says calmly. “I… I didn’t even know you existed, not really.”

With a deep sigh, Rose studies James and wants to believe him. She really does. But she also grew up on the estate and isn’t stupid. “Look, I need a cuppa to clear my head. Let’s go to the cafe and you can explain everything.” It’s also a place with more foot traffic, and if Doctor James Noble decides to get weird, she can make a quick getaway.

* * *

 

“Okay, so… Explain. Please.” Rose takes a sip of her tea and stares pointedly at James across the table. “Now.”

He tugs on his ear again. “Well, I found a photo on the ground one day. This one, actually,” James says, as he tugs a well worn picture out of his jacket and places it on the table.

Rose’s eyes widen at the image, and she remembers the exact moment it was taken. Mickey had gone through a brief photography phase and had purchased a nice camera with some extra wages he’d earned from the garage. In an effort to learn the settings, he’d begged her to pose for several portraits on the old sport complex near the estate. This particular photograph shows her smiling at the camera, coming down from a laugh after one of Mickey’s stupid jokes, with the strange ‘Bad Wolf’ writing on the wall behind her. It’s close enough to see the detail of her hoops and facial features, but not her jeans or shoes. 

“Where did you find that?” she asks. 

“Here, actually. On the steps to the entrance.” James waves his hand in the direction of the front doors. “Found it,  _ ooooh, _ over a year ago, now.” He pauses, looking into his tea, and Rose waits (somewhat impatiently) for him to continue. “I’m not an artist, never had an interest in it, really. But there was something about that photograph that sparked a desire to recreate your image. Flew to Italy and spent six months working with a group of artists, and ‘New New Fortuna’ was born.”

Rose stares at him. “You sculpted that in six months?”

James takes a large bite of his biscuit, chews, then swallows. “What can I say? I was inspired.”

“But why me? I’m just… I’m just me, no one special. Just an ordinary girl you saw on a photo,” Rose frowns and chews on her thumbnail. 

Leaning across the table, James gazes intensely into her eyes. “Don’t say that. You’re special, more than ‘ordinary.’ I know that without even knowing your name.”

Despite herself, Rose blushes, realizing she’d never introduced herself. In her defense, she  _ had _ suspected James of being a stalker. “Oh. I’m Rose. I’m Rose Tyler.”

James sits back with a sigh. “Rose Tyler.” He says her name slowly, enunciating each syllable carefully, as though he’s scared he’s going to break it. His eyes light up, and a slow smile spreads across his face. 

Blimey, she’s doomed. Rose can’t help but smile back. “What?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to know your name,” James says. “All these months, you’ve just been the woman from the photograph.” His eyes roam over her face, and his ears tinge pink. “You’re prettier in real life.”

Rose feels her cheeks warm further at his words. Oh boy. Time to change the subject before she combusts into flames. “How’d you guess what the rest of me looks like? I mean, you only saw my face and, well, my upper half. How’d you know I wear jeans and sneakers?”

“I had a hunch,” James replies. “Honestly, I didn’t know, so I just filled in what I couldn’t see with my best guess.”

A thought jumps into Rose’s mind. “My bum! My chest!” She smirks when his face flushes a deep red. “You sure you’re not a creeper?”

“I’m an artist, Rose. And a scientist. And a good many other things. I treated your bum and… chest,” he flushes more deeply, “with the utmost respect.” 

Rose holds his gaze for several long moments before nodding in satisfaction. His adorably awkward reaction and sincerity in his words makes her believe him. Maybe she shouldn’t, but she’s always had a knack at reading people and knowing whether or not she can trust them. Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule – like bloody _ Jimmy Stone _ – but she’s older and wiser, now. And James Noble? 

“I believe you,” she says, biting back a grin when James sinks back in apparent relief. “I just wasn’t expecting to see a statue of me today. When my mate Mickey called and told me to come down here, I had no idea… It’s brilliant, James. You’re really talented, and I’m a bit chuffed you found me so inspiring.” She smiles at him, her tongue between her teeth, and she doesn’t miss the way it captures his attention.

“However,” she says, intentionally drawing out the word. James meets her gaze and sits up, rubbing the back of his neck with anxious energy. “I think it’s only fair that you let me draw you sometime.”

James’s jaw drops open in surprise. “What?”

“I’m an art student,” she explains, unable to keep an amused smile off her face. “And next term we’re starting the human body section. I’ll need a model.”

“What?”

She reaches across the table and pokes James in the chest. “‘S only fair, yeah?”

He blinks. “Y– Yeah. I suppose it is, Rose Tyler.” 

James’s long fingers drum against the edge of his plate, and Rose stares at them, completely mesmerized. She pulls out her sketchbook and, hiding the page from his view, quickly sketches his fingers and the accompanying dinnerware. Mickey was right, but she had no idea she’d find such inspiration in this form at the museum. 

“What’s that?” James asks, attempting to peer over the edge of the book. 

“Just a mo,” Rose mutters, biting her lip in concentration. She finishes the rough sketch and scribbles her mobile number along the bottom edge of the plate. It’d be easier to just get his number, but she suspects he won’t hesitate to contact her. 

Tearing the page out of her sketchbook, Rose pushes it across the table to James. “Looks like I’m inspired, too.” Looking up, she spots Mickey walking toward her, and not in the mood to deal with him being unnecessarily protective, she stands up and packs her things. “Give me a call… if you want.” She smiles at him before hurrying away toward Mickey.

Behind her, James mutters under his breath. “Rock solid strategy, that is.”

She grins, looks over her shoulder, and winks.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me at goingtothetardis.tumblr.com!


End file.
